


Baka

by Mother_North



Series: Attraction [10]
Category: Figure Skating RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Age Difference, Don't Like Don't Read, Emotional, Forbidden Love, Guilty Pleasures, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, POV First Person, Porn with Feelings, Psychology, Secret Relationship, Sex, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 02:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17951843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_North/pseuds/Mother_North
Summary: I think I have never loved you more.“Your mom will kill me.”I mused, my voice rough.“Baka.”





	Baka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Puniyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puniyo/gifts).



> Written for my precious friend Puniyo ♡ Thank you for your constant support and our creative exchanges which mean so much to me!
> 
> Note: Baka (馬鹿, ばか (hiragana), or バカ (katakana) means "fool; idiot" in the Japanese language. It is obviously meant in a loving way here :D
> 
> RPF disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and it is not meant to offend anyone. It is a product of author’s imagination only. All thoughts, actions and emotions described below have nothing to do with reality.
> 
> Enjoy.

**

 

**POV Shuzo**

Looking at you make me think of sakura petals in the wind, caught by a gust of wind to fly freely. Your movements are freedom and when you are skating it is hard not to be mesmerized by your beauty. I remember you telling me once that while on ice you can be your true self, channel your own vision and personality through each step and gesture: your elegant tapered fingers to weave spells in the air. You are fascinating to watch off the ice as well, away from the stage of your improvised theatre and everyone’s searing gazes, away from the world – only mine to see, only mine to have. I think that happiness sounds and feels like your giddy laughter and the fleeting touch of your silky hand upon my skin, where the invisible mark is left every single time.

There’s no way I can love you less, my boy.

At first, I could have never imagined that there is even the slightest possibility of something blooming between us; a wild thought that had my heart racing and a feeble voice at the back of my mind screaming obscenities at me, constantly blaming for foolishness and absurd hopefulness. I am an old man, after all. Not that I feel old…It is just you, a pure child who seems even younger every time I see you again. Maybe it is your childish nature or the way you smile – open to the world and truthful, ready to soak up impressions and new information; the boy who always cares. It is a rare and a precious quality. I don’t know how painful it must be to have such a big and a sensitive heart, to wear it on a sleeve, to feel so much and not to shy away from emotions but to pour them out on the ice for everybody to consume. While on the ice you live the moment to its fullest – there is no pretense or fake dramatism, no over the top showmanship but a sincere desire to give yourself fully to the adoring public. You have often confessed that you have your own weaknesses and I (like no one) am aware of how _real_ your inner demons are; I sometimes see them lurk in your blown pupils at night, when your hair is disheveled and breathing ragged. You sob into my shoulder, seeking comfort and warmth just like a child would and then I feel like I am the most important person in your life, the most needed one and it fills me with egoistical hope that it would be this way forever…

Yes, I am a total egoist when it comes to you. I want to pamper you, to indulge you, to spoil you…because it is the right thing to do. You love to be praised and adored and at times I sense that I can ruin you with the intensity of my passion and there wasn’t an instance when you had denied me the opportunity to do just that. You enjoy it as much as I do. Maybe our relationship is clandestine and I can’t even start to imagine what a scandal might erupt in case we are discovered. You once mentioned that it would mean a certain death, you scared me with the despair and fright in your obscure eyes, I knew you would have taken your life had it really happened.

_A dying swan in my protective embrace._

I’ll protect you till your last breath, my boy.

Once after a session of our fervent lovemaking I tell you so and your tired smile lightens up your whole countenance. Perhaps it is a naïve thing to believe that the end won’t come; it always does regardless of our feels and wishes. I remember you saying:

“You only love me because I am strong. You love me because I win, a champion getting gold medals… But I am not worthy… _I am still not worthy_.”

Hearing you voicing out those silly false assumptions made my breath catch in my throat. What on earth made you think that? There is no way you could really think I was that shallow. I took your little lovely heart-shaped face between my broad palms, I searched your eyes intently and my hands were trembling with a barely concealed indignation.

“What is this nonsense all about, Yuzu?”

You smirked ruefully and it hurt. You grabbed my wrists, short nails digging in, causing me pain. It was never easy to love you: your vulnerability and rawness going out of hand, boundaries often to be broken by the intensity of your emotions. You dove into nightmarish precipices of self-accusation and insecurity, abysmal self-torture of seeming _not good enough_ to your own eyes.

I caught you falling whenever I could, I tried saving you…I swear I did. I swear I always would.

You loved wearing black and your mood swung badly. I knew when the storm was in sight and I did my best to be prepared. You bit back tears stubbornly, ankle throbbing from pain, your paper-white complexion and sunken eyes, your sharpened jawline cutting through me. Your soul was bleeding and I was afraid to touch you because you looked so _fragile_ , as if a mere wrong touch could destroy you. I hated the melancholic glaze in your dark eyes, fire in them criminally extinguished. I was sitting silently by your side without turning on the lights – just you and I in a comforting darkness. I gave you time when you needed it. There is no way I could break the walls of the shell you were hiding yourself in.

You were seeking peace in my arms when the storm finally subsided, died down emotions and vestiges of hysterics to slowly dissipate from your still trembling form. I cherished such moments of shared intimacy and soothing quietness when you slowly put yourself together a piece after a piece.

Deep inside my heart I was positively sure you could withstand any adversity. If you weren’t aware of the immense inner forces you possessed…well, I definitely was.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

“What..?!”

I could hardly believe my ears and the knot at the pit of my stomach felt very real; filled with anxiousness and dread to the brim I started protesting in earnest, my palms clammy from sweat and voice too agitated and possibly even edgy. A nervous laughter escaped me.

“Yuzu…I can’t. I am sorry.”

“Why? Are you ashamed of me? Or of what we… _have_?”

You looked wounded; your haunted look making me stutter.

“No, of course I am not ashamed.” I had to be completely honest with you; there was no other option no matter how hard the admission might be.

“I am just scared…Scared to see the look in your mother’s eyes…The reproach, the betrayal of her trust…I think she never wanted her only son end up with a man like me…Too old and so _undeserving_ …I don’t know, Yuzu. It is too much…”

You winced.

“I never knew I could have fallen in love with a coward.”

You left and each of your steps was stomping pieces of my shattered heart. The next few days were hell on earth for me. I called you a thousand times, executing myself for my faint heartedness. I whispered into the darkness that I was never ever ashamed of _us._

On the following morning I was at the doors of your Toronto condo. Yumi-san greeted me with the puzzled look on her expressive face. How often had I actually seen you in her: the smallest tilt of a head, a wave of a thin wrist, the way she smiled and bowed her swanlike neck…Not to mention that you had your mother’s beautiful lips.

She let me in and we had a nerve-wrecking twenty-minute-something conversation at the spacious living-room (you staying upstairs in your room). She listened carefully while I declared my love for you. I was sick with worry of what her reaction might be but she didn’t raise her voice once during the whole time of our talk. She was listening without a word, eyes boring into me, sitting silently with her hands folded in her lap. I thought she didn’t reply for eternity, her solemn face an unreadable mask.

“If you somehow hurt him I’ll strangle you with my own hands, Shuzo-san.”   

The timbre of her voice was flat and calm, even if there was a storm raging inside her she didn’t let it come to the surface, not a crack in her perfect composure. I asked whether I could see you and she nodded, adding that she had always knew it somewhere deep down in her heart – something happening between the two of us, something heavy hanging in the air; an unspoken tension which made her feel strangely concerned.

“The way you looked at him and started crying almost immediately after he had put his PyeongChang golden medal around your neck…There was an outburst of affection in your teary eyes…You looked so profoundly moved and shaken I knew it was not only about adoration of his sportive achievements or simple celebration of his victory. I saw _love_ in your eyes and…It is really quite ironical that I was fooled by my own son among all people; he learned how to hide his emotions too well through all these years and his seeming impassiveness and guarded respect for you didn’t appear to be too suspicious to me…It’s my bad, I guess. ”

My mouth went dry and I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes.

“Do you want me to leave right now, Yumi-san?”

She shook her head furiously – finally a proper display of emotion and I was waiting for her definitive verdict which could be both: a pardon and a death sentence.

“Don’t you dare! Not after everything you have just confessed to me!”

An overwhelming wave of relief washed over me and I bowed my head, humbly thanking her for understanding and sincere care for her son’s happiness, even if it meant overstepping the society norms and a constant threat for the reputation of her family being ruined.

“Hidetoshi doesn’t have to know for now…”

I mumbled apologies and she shooed me away with a wave of her hand, signalizing that our tiresome conversation has come to its end.

I went upstairs immediately to find you in your bed, lying quietly with a pair of earphone buds in your ears. You looked oblivious to the surrounding world, completely immersed in whatever type of music you were currently listening to. I set at the edge of the bed carefully, not wanting to startle you. You had your eyes closed and it felt like a crime to ruin a peaceful expression on your face. I was simply staring at you, indulging myself in this tranquil moment, thinking that it looked like we had a future, after all, my heart swelling with tenderness.

“Yuzu,” the dearest among all names left my lips reverently.

I called before lying down, spooning you from behind. You tensed in my arms at first, relaxing only when you turned around to face me properly. I kissed you with the barest touch of my lips and you smiled, perhaps already knowing what I was only intending to say.

“ _She_ knows,” you spoke simply, not needing any further affirmations from my side. I couldn’t bite back a happy laughter which was almost instantly smothered by your insistent mouth. I tried to withdraw but you wouldn’t let me, arms refusing to let go of my muscular shoulders.

“She won’t come in…Believe me.” A _very telling_ smile was twisting your perfect lips.   

I was blushing like a damned schoolboy, my ears burning when you moved to straddle my hips. I tried to resist, the enormity of what we were about to do with your mother somewhere downstairs making my head spin.

“Not now…Yuzu, please… _We can’t_.”

“Don’t you want me..?”

You slid down my body gracefully.

I gulped, my heartbeat speeding up significantly as I was watching your elegant fingers taking care of my leather belt nimbly; your intention becoming obscenely clear. I struggled to bite back a groan as I felt your wet lips closing around the head of my pulsing erection. You always knew how to play me like a fiddle with your skillful hands, eager mouth and velvety tongue: the temptation too powerful to withstand.

Teasing kitten licks meant to drive me dangerously close to the edge; sloppy sucking only to prolong the pleasurable torture even further. I buried my fingers in your silky dark strands to control the pace, to make you take my throbbing cock deeper.

I was struggling to hold myself back, not to be too rough but the little breathless sounds you were making drove me up the wall with lust. Tiny white spots were dancing in front of my eyes and I bit into my own wrist not to cry out aloud as I came painfully hard into your mouth, you swallowing obediently every single drop.

You were staring up at me – glass-eyed and red-cheeked, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glisten. I tried to even my breathing, tracing your brow with my fingertip, while smiling, still dazed by the intensity of my recent orgasm.

“Your turn.”

You turned to lie on your stomach, sliding down a pair of black training pants you were wearing down your muscular hips without an ounce of hesitation.

No underwear beneath.

_Kuso._

Wasting no time, I began showering your perfect asscheeks with greedy open-mouthed kisses as you were moaning wantonly into the pillow.

“C’mon…Bring it on…,” urging me so bluntly.

I shivered from the sheer neediness in your voice.

I licked inside you slowly, tongue moving with a well-controlled ease in the most intimate of all caresses. You were wiggling your hips, trying to get more contact as I was totally blown away by the way your body was opening up so perfectly around my probing tongue. I was awed at the intensity of your body response – ever sensitive and sensual.

Your little muffled whines made me hard again in no time and I couldn’t get enough of your forbidden sweetness, my precious boy.

I felt you shudder from head to toe violently when I added two fingers to where my tongue was, expertly finding the secret spot in the depths of your heated body to hit it with each aimed thrust. You keened helplessly, too overwhelmed with the aching ecstasy, too far gone to care about the sounds you were making – dragged-out moans spilling from your mouth to be muffled by the pillow you’d bitten into.

“Shhh…Yuzu, please…”

You were already so close, the telling tremors around my fingers making me regret I couldn’t be buried fully inside your quivering body right now. You whimpered brokenly as you finally reached your completion, painting the bedcover with white.

_Dirty, dirty boy._

I think I have never loved you more.

“Your mom will kill me.”

I mused, my voice rough.

“ _Baka.”_

Well, I couldn’t argue with the definition you gave me -- being the old, crazily enamored fool at your absolute disposal. Post-orgasmic bliss made me boneless and I let you clean all of the mess we had just made with the help of some Pooh-san tissues which were always near at hand at your bedside.

 

**

 

Afterwards, we went downstairs together, holding hands boldly (my legs still refusing to properly hold my bodyweight). Your mother was scanning our appearances with keen eyes and I wished the ground would swallow me up. You looked as if nothing had happened, except for the eyes shining happily and with a bone-deep satisfaction. I thought it wasn’t all that hard to guess about what exactly we had just been doing, the raw intimacy in the air between us too palpable to go unnoticed.

I was grateful your mother chose to play along and didn’t make any dubious remarks or even a single hint.

“You must be hungry, _boys_ …Oyakodon is practically ready so get ready to sit down to table.”

Yumi-san’s words were laced with sincere mischief, yet the particular word “ _boys_ ” she used made a strained smile appear on my face, a wave of panic rising inside, as an uncomfortable tightness suddenly seemed very real in my sandpaper dry throat.   

Perhaps I was indeed too old for all of this? Perhaps you’ll get tired of me soon? Perhaps I am a bad choice for you, after all?

Sighing inwardly I squeezed your little palm reassuringly.

No matter what it might take I am willing to love you… if you let me to.

In the only way I am capable of… without restraint, without an ounce of regret.

 

**


End file.
